Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Pobjie Poetry Month Day 8 Title Courtesy Of @spacekidette

The Beauty of Truth

I never saw a truth I liked the look ofDriving through midnight orange fog pocket-change rattlingTo find a way to pass the time that threatened to bring reality with itSitting on kerbs we avoided each other's eyesLaughed as loud as we could to drown out whatever we knew about ourselvesAnd kept driving in circles Like we thought the truth would give up if it got dizzy enoughDropping in to wink at graveyard shift checkout chicksAs if we had a plan for the night that would end anywhereBut heavy eyes and lonelinessLounging on pillars in dirty white mallsSmirking at the bad hair days slithering past and the skirts that promised more than they deliveredAnd snapping lips to showOur higher form of beingThat didn't need their blissful ignoranceOur jokes told us we were going somewhereSo we happily believed themAnd beneath the bulldog clouds heaving quiet breath in the airless nightWe turned our eyes from truthBecause its stare will turn you to stoneAnd when Saturday night's an echo and freedom falls to the windsWe'll know truthAs it squats, fat and deformed, before us, and demands entry to our heartsAnd we'll welcome it at lastWhen we see we're out of optionsWhen we reach out for the thousandth time in throat-stopped hopeAnd for the thousandth time clutch at thin airThen truth we'll face, and truth we'll seekAs the last thing on earth we wantedAnd the last thing on earth we have left